


Countdown

by Simara



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Scriddler, denial is a bad coping mechanism don't do it, just me puttig Edward through hell as usual, mutually abusive relationship, twiddler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-11 01:47:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10452234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simara/pseuds/Simara
Summary: "The first one was just a slap. True, being slapped by a 6 foot 4 thug with a temper hurt but it wasn’t an actual blow."Edward remembers well enough just how his past relationship had spiralled out of control but he does his best to pretend that it wasn't as bad as Jonathan makes it sound.





	

**Countdown**

_it's only a matter of time till it breaks_

 

The first one was just a slap. True, being slapped by a 6 foot 4 thug with a temper hurt but it wasn’t an _actual_ blow. Edward’s eyes watered, his ears rung and his lip bled a little where he’d bitten it. Apart from that he was just fine, the creeping feeling of betrayal not withstanding. _This isn’t all bad_ , Edward told himself sardonically, calming the memories that tried to rise. _At least he’s not my father_. He blinked the tears away, starring at Harvey with red-rendered eyes. Harvey was breathing heavily, fists clenched. Edward forced a smile. His lip tore a little further.

“That’s all you’ve got?” Harvey left without a word.

 

The second one was a back-hand. It hit Edward out of nowhere and left him curled up on the ground, spitting blood. Harvey crouched down beside him, offered him a weary hand and pulled Edward back to his feet. There was regret in his eyes.

“Sorry”, Harvey said. His voice was rough. Edward gritted his teeth. The taste of blood made him feel sick.

“Never mind”, he spat. This had to stop.

 

The third one was a regular blow and Edward staggered backwards, clenching his bleeding nose in disbelieve. It hurt badly and his vision was blurred. He vaguely noticed Harvey taking a step towards him. Edward wasn’t particularly strong but he put all his weight into it when he smacked his cane over Harvey head. The tall man hadn’t anticipated the blow; it struck him right over the temple. Edward dragged a hand across his blood-smeared face. Never again.

 

The fourth one was a long way coming. Harvey had grabbed him by the hair during a fight and Edward had bitten him hard. The blow was anything but precise but it managed to knock Edward out none the less. He woke up in a hospital bed, in Arkham Asylum. They should have known better then to quarrel on the job.

 

The sixth one was a slap again and Edward hit right back, smacking Harvey across the scarred part of his face. Harvey’s lips twitched. The seventh one broke his nose. He cried after Harvey left. There wouldn’t be an eight one.

 

The eight one had him collapse beside the bed. He got up and kneed Harvey into the groin for good measure and soon they were rolling around the bedroom floor. Edward tasted blood when they kissed but he wasn’t sure whose it was. He was bruised all over the next day.

 

The ninth one was his own fault, really. He had tried his best to provoke Harvey because getting slapped around was better then being ignored all together. Edward smiled as Harvey’s eyes widened. Harvey was on medication. There was noone to blame it on this time.

“Gotcha”, Edward said, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the expensive looking carpet.

“Out.” Harvey said, a little too calm. “Now.” Edward left. The next time they met he was told that there would be no more ‘us against the world’ and even though Edward threw a vase at Harvey’s head, there was no tenth strike.  

 

 

Edward hadn’t meant to tell Jonathan any of this but he just had to set it right. He couldn’t just let Jonathan call it abuse, could he now? True, there might have been more then those nine blows, there probably were but what did it matter? They’d both given each other hell, no need to blame it all on Harvey.

 

Jonathan shook his head in frustration. They had a long way to go from here.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was originally just me playing around with different ways to describe people punching each other. Naturally, it resulted in me being mean to my favourites. I didn't meant to publish it originally (too much hurt and too little comfort for my taste) but well here we are. Hope you enjoyed. ;)


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